Author's Note: So, this is a little fic I started playing with a couple days ago, and it was supposed to be a short, sweet PWP and clearly morphed into something larger. I haven't had anyone look it over yet, so don't hate me if there are any errors.

Draco had always found Gryffindors to be dense, but none so much as Harry Potter, hero of the wizarding world. The Golden Boy's denseness first made itself apparent when he chose the likes of a Knutless wonder like Weasley as his best mate, but the obliviousness kept cropping up at every turn. Fighting with Dark Wizards, traveling into the Forbidden Forest unnecessarily, throwing himself head first into the Tri-Wizard Tournament…the foolishness seemed to have no end at all.

In fact, it had been a moment of sheer thickness on Potter's part that had landed them in this mess. Draco glowered across the table at his rival and then at the potion between them. "Why did you have to say my name? Why not Granger or that other Gryffindor who is decent at potions?"

"Dean?" Harry offered.

"Whatever," Draco replied with a casual wave of his hand. He had no wish to clutter his mind with useless information any more than necessary to pass his exams. "The point is, you could have named anyone, but you named me."

"Yours was the first name that cropped up, Malfoy," Harry replied bitterly.

"Oh, so just because you have a crush on me, I'm strapped to you for this assignment?" Draco hissed.

"I. Do. Not. Have. A. Crush." Harry had informed the Slytherin of this fact no less than ten times since they'd entered the private laboratory. "Besides, I hardly knew that the Professor would assign us this mandatory extra credit, or that he'd partner me with you, did I?"

"Well, you seem to think you know everything, I only assumed that included the future," Draco bit out.

"Can we just get on with this? I'd rather not spend any more time together than we must." Harry's sigh was almost as heavy as his glare.

"And you think I do?" Malfoy shrieked, or at least that's how Harry would recount it to his friends later that night. Like a banshee's shriek.

"Maybe I'm not the one with the crush?" Harry suggested with a poised eyebrow.

"Unicorn horn," Draco spat, holding out his hand for the ingredient.

"Terms of endearment will get you nowhere, Malfoy," Harry teased, watching brightly as Draco's cheeks flushed.

"You know very well that's not what I meant. Prat." Draco reached around his obtuse partner and grabbed the unicorn horn for himself.

"Very smooth cover," Harry offered, as Draco uncorked the vial of glittering golden power and sprinkled a bit in their bubbling cauldron.

Draco rolled his eyes and they worked in silence for the next half-hour. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Harry asked when the potion turned from violet to silver.

Draco shot him an annoyed glare and refused to dignify Potter's question with an answer. However, when Potter turned away to parcel out more ingredients, Draco took another quick scan of his notes just to make sure he wasn't botching the potion. He didn't want to spend another evening with the Gryffindor Git to redo this assignment.

Unfortunately, Potter had been unusually accurate in his assessment. Draco had skipped over a critical step and all the time they'd spent on the potion so far had been for naught.

"I think you added too much Valerian root," Draco complained, trying to blame Harry for his own mistake. "The potion is ruined."

"You added the Valerian root, remember?" Harry quipped. "You told me that my hands were too rough for such a fine cut and that you'd take care of the Valerian root because your fingers are dainty and girlish."

"I did not say that," Draco seethed.

"Alright, well, I added that last bit in, but the rest you said," Harry huffed. "In fact, you've hardly allowed me near the cauldron, so if the potion is ruined, you ruined it."

"Well, since this is a joint effort, the Professor surely won't see it that way. So we need to redo it." Draco crossed his arms over his chest and waited for the winging and the protests, but they never came. Harry merely shrugged and nodded curtly.

"When? Now, or try again tomorrow night?"

"It's a bit late already, so tomorrow? After supper?" he suggested.

"I'll be here," Harry replied and banished the potion with a flick of his wand and a muttered spell before throwing his bag over his shoulder and leaving the room without another word.

Draco stared curiously after him, surprised by quite a few things. One, the usually inept Gryffindor actually noticed something was wrong with their assignment when Draco hadn't. Two, Draco might have found the raven-haired idiot amusing had all of his jabs not been directed at him. Three, Potter had seemed unusually cooperative most of the evening, even when they discovered they'd have to repeat the first four steps of the assignment tomorrow, Potter still never grumbled. And four, and by far the most disconcerting to the blond, was that Potter apparently seemed partial to denims that made his arse look delicious.

With a sigh, Draco tore his eyes away from Potter's retreating backside and flung himself away from the cauldron and toward the Slytherin common room.

Despite the warning bells going off inside his head, Draco actually looked forward to seeing Potter the next day. So much so, that he arrived in their secluded lab space far too early. Potter, however, was predictably late, if only by a minute. It felt like far longer since Draco had already been sitting there for nearly half an hour.

"Apparently you were too busy with your worshipping mass to get here on time," Draco commented snidely.

"Come of it, Malfoy. I was only a few seconds late." Harry set his things down on the far side of the desk and began sorting through the amassed ingredients. "Unless you'd like to dock points. Or are the Head Boys allowed to issue spankings now?"

Draco choked on his own breath. Suddenly he was unable to erase the image of Harry bending over to reveal a very pert, naked arse for him to slap with his open palm. "That won't be necessary. This time," he warned. "But do try to be more courteous with other people's time in the future."

"Yes, Lord Malfoy," Harry replied, dipping into a sarcastic bow.

"You just live to torture me, don't you?" Draco asked. Harry only grinned, a look of pure amusement and no undertones of malice that Draco could spot. "I'm going to try very hard not to botch the potion this time."

"That would be lovely," Harry remarked as he slid over the first ingredients.

"I'll even let you slice the Valerian if you'd like." Draco thought the offer was rather kind, but Harry merely shrugged and resumed his work.

Again they sat in silence, only this time it was only awkward on Draco's half. As he stirred, he kept trying to figure out ways to say kind things about Potter without actually saying anything that could be construed as nice…or un-Slytherin-like.

"Your hair is…erm…very…black," he said lamely.

Harry merely blinked up and him and pursed his lips. "That's very observant of you, Malfoy. Did you just notice that now, after seven years of sitting behind me in class?"

"Not just - no, but it always looked so messy, and now it just looks…soft," he said and Harry's eyes widened slightly.

"Are you feeling okay, Malfoy? Do any of these ingredients induce hallucinations or fever?" he asked.

"Fine…just…distracted," Draco muttered. He didn't know what to do. Normally, if he liked someone, he'd just say so. Or he'd manipulate them into liking him back and then he'd eventually get bored and move on. This felt…different somehow. Potter was obviously more clever than he'd given him credit for, and wasn't there a rumor circulating that he and the Ginger Shrew had gotten back together?

Besides, who just came out and professed their slightly fondish feelings for the Boy Who Lived? No one, that's who. And Draco didn't even know exactly how he felt, other than Potter made him laugh and looked spectacular in the v-necked vintage tee he wore over worn, tight denims. It was a far cry from the loose fitting robes they were all day to class, that's for sure.

"Ah. Too distracted to finish the potion tonight?" Harry looked expectant, and Draco, for some reason, didn't want to let him down.

"No. I'm fine. I was just trying to be friendly, since we're stuck here together all night," he explained.

Harry beamed. From a distance, that grin always looked ordinary, but here, so close, and directed at him, it was glittering and spectacular and did nothing to increase his level of concentration.

It wasn't just the teeth either, although Draco could find no fault with those. It was the lips. They looked so snoggable that Draco wasn't sure he could resist. He vaguely heard his name being called and blinked to find Harry staring at him with a peculiar expression.

"Malfoy? Are you alright?"

"Fine, fine. Dazzled is all, I mean dazed…it's been a long day," he attempted.

"Well, it's about to get longer, because you just added the ginger too early," he pointed out.

"Are you sure you didn't eat something funny? You're not making any sense." He touched the back of his hand to the blond's forehead and shook his head.

"Do you think I'm hot?" Draco asked and then coughed slightly. "I mean, do I feel warm from a fever?"

Harry's features softened ever so slightly and he pulled his hand away with a slight grin. "You don't have a fever," he confirmed, "and I would have thought that you'd get plenty of compliments on your looks by now to be confident in that area."

"It never hurts to hear what your enemy thinks of you," Draco pointed out, sobering quickly as he realized what a raving lunatic he seemed.

Harry frowned. "I would have thought us long beyond enemies by now, Malfoy."

"Just because the war is over, doesn't mean I'm suddenly on your side," he corrected.

"No, but because the war is officially over now, it means that we don't have to think about everything in terms of sides," Harry countered.

Draco glowered at the raven-haired Gryffindor, and not because he was wrong, or being obtuse, but quite the opposite. He hated seeing Potter as anything but a media hungry war hero who didn't deserve half as much as he was given. Every moment he spent alone with the prat seemed to alter that perception more and more. "I hate you," Draco muttered.

"Well," Harry said, looking a bit put out but otherwise unaffected, "that's your right. Shall we pick up tomorrow night? Third time's a charm, I hope?" Harry rounded up his things with profound haste and made way for the door. "And I'm not dating Ginny," he added over his shoulder before exiting quickly.

Draco suspected he'd offended Potter on some level, especially judging by the way he practically ran from the room to get away from his lab partner. Normally this knowledge would elate him and keep his spirits up all evening. Making Harry Potter flinch was something he lived for, after all, but he couldn't seem to muster up the energy to celebrate. The fact that he'd watched the Gryffindor leave with that glint of dejection in his eyes actually made Draco annoyed with himself.

In fact, the only thing that managed to cheer him was the fact that Potter had practically declared that he was single, or at least not dating the she-weasel, which was as good as being single in Draco's eyes.

Still, that information didn't help him too much. He wanted Harry to look upon him with affection, not like he had a smear on his face that was utterly impossible to identify. And adding insult to injury, Draco had floundered like a fish out of water during their study session. How in the world was he supposed to sort his feelings out if he couldn't be himself?

He needed to treat Potter the same as he would any potential courtship and he would soon woo the Gryffindor right out of his sinfully tight trousers.

"So, I think I might like someone," Draco blurted as he stirred in the clove. They'd been mostly quiet up until that point. No snide comments, no personal jokes and no attacks on one another. Draco didn't know why he was ruining it by talking, but he was.

Harry sputtered beside him, clearly taken aback by the sudden comment. "I'm sorry, did you just admit to feeling an…emotion? One that wasn't centered on hatred and world domination?"

"Believe it or not, Potter, I'm actually quite fond of this person and I'd rather you not ruin it," he replied despondently. He'd been expecting Potter to ask who it was, or if he knew them, not comment on whether he was even capable of feeling.

"Me? How would I ruin it?" Harry scoffed. "You might see me as your enemy, but I'm not out to sabotage your life."

"I know," Draco admitted. "Which was why I was wondering if I could ask you a favor?"

Pursing his lips, Harry eventually nodded. "You can ask, I suppose, but that doesn't mean I have to agree. I mean, if you ask me to go Crup-stomping with you this weekend, I'll have to decline."

"Because you like Crups so much?" Draco asked blandly, unable to figure out if Potter was being serious.

"No, because I have plans," Harry replied just as levelly as he'd made the comment in the first place.

"You don't really think I go Crup-stomping do you?" Draco asked, a tad anxiously. If Potter truly thought so low of him there was no chance in the world of getting the Gryffindor to notice him in a romantic way.

Harry merely shrugged, but Draco saw the grin pulling at the corners of his mouth before Harry could turn away and hide it. "Go on, ask your favor," he replied instead.

"Well, this person is a bit different from other's I've dated before," Draco admitted reluctantly. "So, I was wondering if I could run a few scenarios by you and see which you would find most appealing."

"Fair enough," Harry replied and handed over the Valerian root with a grin.

They worked in silence; Draco occasionally sneaking glances at Harry, who Draco noticed tended to chew on his bottom lip when concentrating very hard. It was sort of cute. "Your smile disarms me as thoroughly as a well cast Expelliarmus," he said, and Harry merely blinked at him before offering a grin that stole his breath away.

"Really? That's the best you can do?" he quipped. "Come on, Malfoy, I know you can be charming. I've seen it. Woo me like you mean it," he teased.

"My love for you burns like a dying phoenix," Draco tried, looking hopeful.

"Too cheesy," Harry quipped.

"I don't need the mirror of Erised to know that you're everything I desire."

"Seriously?" Harry asked, rolling his eyes.

"Would you like to take a ride on my broomstick?" Draco asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Harry chortled violently, nearly leaning into Draco's shoulder with the movement. His touch was the only thing keeping Draco from sulking his way out of the room. "I'm afraid that one would only work on me, Malfoy. After I was finished laughing I would definitely shag your brains out."

A brilliant flush lit up Draco's cheeks and Harry pulled away, his laughter dying abruptly on his lips. "Sorry, Malfoy. I was only taking the piss. I didn't mean to offend."

"I'm not…offended," Draco replied, some of his comforting blanket of haughtiness returning in light of Harry's proclamation. Whether the Gryffindor was serious or not, it still boosted Draco's spirits. "It's only natural that we grow closer under such tight working conditions," he explained.

Draco took it and carefully tipped one drop into the brew. "I have a few more," he offered when the potion was the correct shade of blue. "Would you like to hear them?"

"Um, as brilliant as that sounds, maybe we should save something for next time, hm?" Harry suggested with a smile, although Draco noticed that it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Fine then, what would you do to impress someone you liked?" Draco challenged.

"Me? I'm rubbish at impressing girls. Probably one of the reasons I'm g…not seeing anyone. Besides, things like that have to be tailored to a specific person. You can't just use some generic line and expect to bed her," he explained.

"Who said I'm just trying to bed this person? I like them, which for me is unusual, but I'm not just trying to fuck them and move on," Draco huffed.

"Well, that's a start," Harry said. "I mean, you might not want to be so crude about it, but if you make it clear that this is more serious for you, that would probably get your foot in the door at least."

"Well, it is serious, which is disconcerting, because I'm not usually a serious kind of bloke. Especially like this," he sighed.

"So, who is this mystery woman? Another Slytherin?" Harry pried.

"No, that's just it. They aren't in Slytherin, or even the slightly more acceptable Ravenclaw. It's a fucking Gryffindor!" Draco blurted unintentionally.

"Really?" Harry gasped, clutching a hand mockingly over his mouth. "Whatever will you do?"

"Oh, sod off. You've met my family. You know this is a big deal."

"It's really not. Why shouldn't you be allowed to fall for whomever you want?" Harry asked.

"Because it just doesn't work that way," Draco sighed. "I mean, I can, but not without extreme backlash from all ends."

"Are they worth it? This person?" Harry asked, his gaze focused on the potion in front of him.

Draco had given this question serious thought already. When he'd just imagined his crush as a passing fancy, it didn't matter. It's not like Potter would ever fall for him anyway, but when Draco started seeing the raven-haired git in a whole new light, he was forced to wonder about the consequences. If the moon turned blue and suddenly Harry Potter wanted him and only him, would the fall from grace be worth the tumble? He would lose status amongst his housemates and cause discord within his family. Was a relationship with Potter worth all of that? Up until now he hadn't found an answer. He just kept playing things by ear and making it up as he went along. But now, staring at Potter's silhouette, the dungeon candlelight playing off of his ebony locks and giving his entire face this soft, otherworldly glow, Draco couldn't imagine anything more worth it.

"Definitely," he replied at last and Harry turned to meet his gaze, two emerald stones locked onto his and Draco felt the world melt away.

"Well, then you're going to have to try harder to impress this ladylove of yours," Harry whispered, offering Draco a soft smile. "Until then, I suggest you read up on this potion, because you've messed it up again."

"What? What did I do this time?" Draco asked, staring at the bubbling liquid.

"I'm not sure, but it's not supposed to be black," Harry muttered, glancing from the potion to his own notes.

"I'm never going to get this right," Draco muttered, letting his head fall to the cool, metal table.

"Is it my fault?" Harry asked.

"Probably," Draco replied curtly, but shook his head. "No. I've just been unusually distracted lately." 'Although it might be easier if you stopped smiling at me like that,' he answered silently in his mind. 'Or stopped wearing such tight trousers.'

"So, tomorrow night, then?"

Suddenly the botched potion didn't seem like such an inconvenience after all.

"What if I bought them a gift?"

"Are we still talking about this mystery love?" Harry asked as he leaned in closer than necessary to scrutinize the potion. It was still a dark shade of burgundy but should be changing to a soft pink with the addition of three rose petals. As Harry watched, the potion shifted to the proper color and Harry sat back, clearly relieved.

"Of course," Malfoy quipped when Potter's attention was no longer divided. "Whom else would I be speaking of?"

Harry merely shrugged. "Do you think she would like a gift? Some people just aren't very impressed with money, Malfoy. Besides, your pureblood girl probably has enough to buy herself whatever she wants. If you start with a present right out of the gate, they'll either expect more of that treatment or think that you're flaunting your Galleons."

"Who said it was a pureblood I was interested in?" Draco replied snidely.

"Careful, Malfoy. The fact that it's a Gryffindor will be bad enough, but not a pureblood? You might get in trouble from Daddy with talk like that," Harry teased.

"You know, I'm perfectly capable of thinking on my own. I don't have to follow everything he dictates."

"Good to know." The words were accompanied by glimmering green eyes fastened to Draco's and the gaze undid him. "In fact, I could maybe even grow to like this new Malfoy."

"Like 'want to take me behind the Shrieking Shack and snog' kind of like or 'play a friendly game of chase the Snitch' kind of like?" Draco asked, giving his voice a teasing lilt.

Harry looked positively aghast for a split second, but quickly recovered and offered Draco a tawdry wink. "Both," he said in his own mocking tone and laughed as he went back to the potion ingredients they were preparing.

Draco stirred as he mentally berated himself for having ever said anything. And the way Potter answered was surely in jest. The Gryffindor's initial reaction had been shock and possibly dismay. Still, at least he was still being friendly. Anyone else might have made the situation of working on a potion together a good deal more tense after an inane question like that. Unfortunately it seemed he was botching up his chances with Potter just as surely as he was botching the potion. Maybe even more so. Eventually Potter would grow tired of being sexually harassed and ask for a new partner.

"So, how are you going to screw it up this time?"

The question seemed to come directly out of Draco's thoughts and threw him off track. "What? Screw what up? I'm not doing anything?"

"The potion, Genius." Harry rolled his eyes. "You know, the reason we're even here in the first place?"

"Oh. Right." And there it was. Outside of this isolated classroom, there was no Harry and Draco and there never could be. Potter was too much of a celebrity to need to be seen with the likes of a Malfoy, let alone date one.

And so he did something he'd never done before.

Draco sabotaged the potion on purpose.

"Draco! That was three too many bay leaves! That makes the potion unstable!" Harry shouted.

"I'm sorry," Draco replied, glancing down at his notes. "That's what I have written. Are you sure?"

"Look, it's turning brown. It's not supposed to be brown. We were so close," Harry sighed.

"We'll get it right tomorrow," Draco promised. He would have to persuade Harry to see him outside of these extra lessons. He just had to. Messing up the potion would only work just so long, and Harry was clearly running out of patience.

"I can't tomorrow night," Harry sighed. "I promised Hermione and Ron I'd study with them in the library after supper. They worry that if I spend too much time with you my blood will turn Slytherin green."

"Of course they know, but I've been neglecting them in favor of you and they don't like it," Harry explained. "So, I can't tomorrow night."

"What about directly after classes and before supper?" Draco suggested, suddenly not wanting to give up his nightly meetings with the Gryffindor.

"Will that give us enough time?" Harry asked.

"I'll make due," Draco said, realizing that he and Harry were having completely different conversations. "I mean, it should give us enough time to finish it if you hurry and meet mere here right after Charms."

"Alright. I'll see you here then," Harry said and helped Draco clean their station in silence before slinking out of the room.

"It's a date," Draco whispered after Harry was well out of earshot, silently cursing himself for falling for the world's most unattainable man.

"I was thinking that maybe you should be in charge of the potion tonight and that I should prepare the ingredients," Draco said.

"Um…okay," Harry replied reluctantly. "You do realize that you're speaking to me in public…when you don't have to, right?"

Draco glanced around the Great Hall at all the faces turned, riveted to his exchange with the Gryffindor. Even Harry's friends were gaping somewhat, especially Weasley, whose mouth was stuffed with toast and jam and another thankfully unidentifiable food product.

"I'm aware," Draco replied at last. "I just thought I'd mention it so you had time to prepare."

"I've brewed a potion before, Malfoy. I'm familiar with the process," Harry said, shaking his head in mock dismay. "You're still trying to be friendly, aren't you?"

"Maybe," Draco quipped. "Is it working?"

"Would you like to sit with us?" Harry asked, gesturing to the open space on the bench next to him.

As tantalizing as that sounded, Draco could feel the entire school holding its collective breath, as if it were waiting for Draco to punch Harry in the face and for reality to slide back into place, because surely there was a temporal shift somewhere if Draco Malfoy were ever to have a civil breakfast with Harry Potter. "I'd better not," he said at last. "One thing at a time, hm?"

"Suit yourself, Malfoy. See you in class," Harry said, laughing as his friends continued to gape. "It's not that big of a deal, Ron. You can go back to chewing any moment."

Draco skulked back to his own table, nearly wishing he'd taken Harry up on his offer when he returned to a scowling crowd of housemates. "Please tell me this is all part of some master plan that ends in Potter being humiliated," Pansy requested.

"It's not," he assured her, but that's all he would say on the matter, which may have infuriated her more than the idea of him boffing Harry Potter. Maybe.

Harry was doing fantastically at the potion assignment. Had Draco actually wanted to finish the potion, he might have suggested Harry work more closely with it sooner. In fact, Harry was doing too good a job. With one more ingredient and a few final stirs, the brew would be complete and Draco would find himself suddenly very Harryless.

Although, Draco probably could have finished the potion on his own this time since whatever amazingly fitted trousers Harry was wearing were dutifully covered in his school robes, but he found this more displeasing than he should have. This was likely their last time alone together and Draco was being denied the lovely view he'd grown used to.

"No, see, you want to stir it counterclockwise, like this," Draco said, wrapping his hand around Harry's and moving the spoon with him. He noticed that Harry didn't flinch away from the touch, so even though it was clear that Harry understood, Draco didn't pull away. The thrill of being welcomed at Harry's side encouraged him to press on. He carefully lined up the side of his body until it was flush with the Gryffindor's and felt a little electric jolt from his proximity.

"I'm onto you, Malfoy," Harry chuckled at his side. "You've been sabotaging this potion on purpose just to spend time with me, haven't you?"

"N-no. Why in Salazar's name would you even suggest such a thing?" Draco asked, pulling himself entirely away from Harry's perfect form.

"I was only taking the piss, Malfoy," Harry assured. "Lighten up."

"Right."

Draco sighed and watched as Harry added the final element, the wormwood, and internally sulked. It was all over now. Just a few more stirs and the potion would be complete and Harry wouldn't have to see him ever again. He was mildly distracted with his own mental berating for letting Harry take the lead this time, when the liquid began bubbling uncontrollably and splattered outside of the cauldron and onto the two classmates.

"Is it supposed to do that?" Draco asked, hoping the potion had failed again and he'd get to spend time with Harry tomorrow.

"Yes," Harry sighed. "I just wasn't expecting it."

"Oh." Draco tried not to frown but didn't think he could help it, until he looked up to see a bright green trail of potion on Harry's face. "You've got a bit of potion splatter there," Draco told him, pointing to Harry's cheek.

Harry wiped at his face, but kept missing the spot. Finally he stopped and looked over hesitantly at the blond. "Is it still there?"

"Here," Draco offered, "let me." Tentatively he reached up and swiped his thumb along Harry's cheek, softly grazing his lips in the meantime. When he glanced up, Harry's eyes were closed, thick, black lashes fluttering prettily against his flushed cheeks.

Draco didn't think, he simply leapt forward and captured Potter's lips. Harry seemed startled at first, but quickly pressed back, running the tip of his tongue along Draco's bottom lip and sending a shiver of victory down Draco's spine. Somehow, something he'd said or done must have succeeded, and here was Harry actually responding to him. That brief taste of Harry's tongue only made Draco crave more, and he opened his mouth to the other boy's assault.

A moan vibrated through them, and Draco didn't care where it had started because it was only the first of many as Harry leapt off his chair and pinned Draco to the table's edge in a swift, cunning movement that sent all the air barreling out of Draco's lungs.

"Robes. Off. Leave the tie," Harry ordered, and Draco found himself scrambling to obey, even going so far as to rip the button off of his favorite trousers just to get them off faster. He noticed that Harry wasn't moving in a hurried fashion at all, but rather taking his time as he watched Draco disrobe with lust clouded eyes.

"You're not just going to get me starkers and then leave, are you?" he breathed out, only half joking.

Harry answered by tossing aside the last of his own clothing and gripping the loosened Slytherin tie, using it as leverage to pull Draco against him in a crushing kiss. Draco's belly turned to warm mush at the onslaught of teeth and lips and tongue and it was nothing like he'd ever imagined. It was so much better.

And then there was an answering erection pressed hotly against his own and Draco let out a groan that vibrated straight to his groin. How had he ever seen Potter as a bumbling idiot? He was strong, confident and infinitely sexy in naught but his red and gold tie. With a jolt, Draco found his arse pressed firmly against the cool metal table they'd recently been working on and all thought was quickly purged from his mind. Harry ran his arm across the surface in a clean swoop, sending cauldron and ingredients alike clattering to the ground and Draco didn't think he'd ever heard such an erotic sound.

Harry's hands roamed across Draco's chest, marveling at the pale, expanse of naked flesh as he pushed his back flat against the table. "I'm sure you hear this all the time, but you're really quite stunning, Malfoy," Harry commented, making his ego and cock swell simultaneously.

"Nice of you to notice, Potter. You're not so bad yourself," Draco remarked, although his voice was already wavering from the feel of Potter's fingertips ghosting over his body. The fact was, if Potter had been drop dead gorgeous with clothes on, he was even more spectacular now, with just a tie hanging flaccidly around his neck, occasionally brushing the head of a cock that was far from limp.

"I'm glad you approve." The words were but a whisper, but spoken in such a tone it turned Draco's skin to gooseflesh.

Draco might have given some indicator that he'd heard the Gryffindor, but suddenly, Harry's mouth began following the path of his fingers and Draco lost the ability to reply. Hot breath stole away the little bumps that had formed along his torso, and that thick, talented tongue worked him into a writhing frenzy. Draco didn't think he could possibly feel any better than he did in that moment and then yet again, Potter proved him wrong when that delicious mouth closed over his aching prick.

"Fuck," he hissed, thrusting wildly into that hot, eager mouth.

Potter released him with a wet pop and stared up the line of Draco's body, smirking like a born Slytherin. "That's where this is headed, Malfoy. Patience, yeah?"

Draco swallowed thickly and nodded, unsure he could form coherent words if he tried, especially when Harry's tongue resumed its blissful assault on Draco's naughty bits. When he felt a warm, oily sensation and the first slick digit slide lower, caressing his puckered entrance, Draco instinctively shifted away from it. Harry pulled away again and gave the blond the softest emerald gaze Draco could ever remember seeing.

"Would you like me to stop?" he asked, no judgment or scorn in his tone.

"No!" Draco replied hurriedly. "I've just never…." His voice trailed off as if it would be a bludgeon to his Slytherin reputation to finish the sentence aloud.

"Me either," Harry admitted, making some of Draco's worry drain away. "And I want you…badly, but I'll stop if you want me to."

Draco shook his head almost violently. "Please don't."

Even if Harry had stopped in that moment and walked away, the grin he bestowed upon the blond was nearly as good as continuing. Nearly.

Harry didn't resume sucking Draco's cock this time; instead he hovered over the blond, watching every nuance of his lovely face shift into lust-slackened ecstasy as he slowly worked in the first, slender finger. By the time Harry added a second finger along with the first, Draco was craving more, and said so in an intoxicating chant.

"I'm sorry I ever called your fingers rough," Draco gasped out as Harry hooked his fingers inside of him and brushed against a delicious bundle of nerves that had Draco crying out. "They're not rough. They're perfect."

Harry chuckled darkly and placed a tender kiss on Draco's hipbone and added one last finger, stretching him as wide as he dared. His spine hurt as he thrust downward, trying to meet Harry's strokes and drive him deeper. Draco knew he probably looked like a whore, fucking himself on Potter's fingers with wanton abandon, but when he noticed the effect it had on the unflappable Gryffindor, it was all worth it.

The words sent Draco spiraling toward the edge as he lifted up slightly and offered himself to the raven-haired wizard. "What are you waiting for then, Harry? Fuck me."

Harry pulled his fingers away rather abruptly and slid his cock into the eager Slytherin in one carefully fluid motion. Suddenly everything seemed to stop. Draco's breathing, Harry's motions, even the clocks in the room seemed to pause while the boys adjusted to these brand new sensations. But then Draco couldn't handle the tension any longer and he wrapped his legs around the Gryffindor's waist and pulled him deeper.

Harry grinned after regaining his breath and began to move, in and out, slower then faster until he and Draco had created a fast and pounding rhythm that soon had them both toppling over the edge. "Draco," Harry groaned as he loosened his grip on Draco's hip so that he could stroke the cock that bobbed untouched between them.

It could have been the sound of Harry's voice calling out his name or that final fisting of his throbbing prick, or the angle at which Harry thrust into him, but whatever it was, Draco came harder than he had in his whole life and he thought he heard himself screaming Harry's name but couldn't tell. Probably because in that same moment his senses were overloaded with friction and moaning and hot liquid being pumped inside of him.

When the shudders finally ceased, Harry fell on Draco and pressed tiny kisses against his chest. The surprisingly tender gesture had the blond reeling and all he could do was stare into Harry's sweaty, ebony locks. Eventually Harry shifted and pulled out, casting a thorough cleaning charm on them both before moving to fetch their discarded clothes.

"So, I think we ruined the potion again," Harry commented, pointing to the mess on the floor.

"You think?" Draco replied, his blond eyebrow quirked up slightly as he hurriedly pulled his robes back on.

"So," Harry began, almost hesitant. His sudden bashfulness could only be described as adorable, much to Draco's chagrin. "Meet here again tomorrow to continue?"

"To continue the potion?" Draco asked, his throat abnormally dry as he envisioned Harry telling him that this had just been a fluke…or worse…a mistake.

"If that's what you want," Harry replied, "but I was referring to all of it. The potion and…this," he added, gesturing between them.

"So, you're not averse to us…doing this again?" Draco asked, feeling like a buffoon.

Harry chuckled and shook his head. "Of course not. Hadn't you noticed that I fancied you? You sure pointed it out enough."

"Fancied…me?" Draco asked. "Since when? I thought I'd been wooing you all this time."